Original subtitles

(CLOCK TICKING)

You ask what I think of my life as a doctor, my love.

Ladies!

I tell you that my work is among the unknown and sometimes the filthy and degenerate.

-Good Morning! -Dr. Head

If anyone wants me, Mr. Woodcock, I'll be in my laboratory.

And where would your laboratory be presently, Dr. Head?

-In the maid store-room by the old ward. -Very good.

But it is only through the suffering of this unfortunates that I may uncover the workings

of the mind and body, written in a coded secret language

(DOOR OPENS)

-I just wanted to see how you are this morning. -Oh!

-You are not nervous on your first day on Victor Ward? -No.

No, I got a letter from home. I was reminding myself,

it's just a bit of advice from my father.

To break that code, I may have to do something that I and especially you, my love.

may find alarming.

-Morning. -Morning. Cheers! Harry.

(HUMS)

...for those who are nurses to have always present to their

minds the example of our blessed Saviour's love

and sympathy for the poor and suffering.

Amen! ALL: Amen!

-How is our Nellie? -She seems fine

Fortified by prayer?

And soon to be fortified five by breakfast.

-Aren't you eating anything? -I couldn't keep it down.

It won't be so bad.

She'll be watching my every move.

She watches everybody's every move. You should know that by now.

I'll be under her nose till the end of day shift.

What makes you say the other nurses and probationers don't like you?

-They tease me. -Does that mean they don't like you?

Why do they tease you?

I don't talk like them.

Miss Luckes is afraid that you might be homesick for... Raw...Rawtenstall.

That you might up and leave The London and go back up there.

Oh, no. Not in the slightest.

Not for a second! I love The London! I wouldn't want to leave, for definite.

On Victor Ward, we don't mind how a probationer talks,

providing she is attentive and courteous and good at her tasks.

I'm all them... Sorry, those.

Then we'll all be fine.

Nurse!

Coming!

- Good morning, Matron. - Good morning, Nurse Goodley!

- How are we today? - Very well thank you, Matron.

And you say to me,

because you have these finer feelings that I admire so much in you,

that I am a great individual

because I alleviate the suffering of the poor.

And I reply to you, my ever-secret love,

because I would not have you see me...

in any false light.

I am not so great after all.

I use my patients to explore the lower circles of pain,

and to solve the mysteries of how nerves work,

we may have to pay a heavy price.

Even one of sacrifice.

(DOG BARKS AND WHINES)

The incision in the animal's trachea exposes the musculature

of the larynx so that we can time the reflex.

And, in timing the reflexes, we can begin to come to an understanding

of how the body regulates activities such as...

This is completely immoral and degraded!

What on earth is going on?

Lady Carter?

You wanted me?

Before their morning rounds, Dr. Head, Mr. Fenwick.

Tell them I'll keep them a quarter of an hour, no more.

-My dear Head, how are we today? -Hello, Fenwick.

And there I am saying, "Gentlemen, we are on a steam underground railway."

"Do you think this is any place for this kind of discussion!"

Thank you.

Gentlemen, this morning, two individuals infiltrated a lecture

in the medical school to stage a demonstration.

One of them was Lady Carter,

who's been a donor of ours over many years.

-She's a suffragist! -Well, as it happens.

What's the School of Pathology got to do with votes for women?

I take it that the demonstration was against vivisection.

-Ah! -Indeed it was.

And her letter to me invokes the Scriptures

to tell me that my soul is eternally damned

for associating with the likes of you two.

Good morning, Mr. Dean.

Good morning, Nurse. Have you my list?

Oh, would you go and check

that I have a fresh supply of cocaine solution?

There are 15 grains in the drug cupboard.

No, I had to flush it.

No, It looked like someone had already opened it.

We're losing support to the anti-vivisection hospital at Battersea.

Lady Carter is orchestrating a campaign!

It's jolly disappointing!

Enough to make a man want to go outside and kick a dog!

But what exactly do you want us to do about it?

We must make the public aware

that the Battersea Hospital is anti-inoculation

and therefore puts its patients at risk.

I don't have any beds there.

I have no intention of taking any beds there!

Very good.

I take it, Chairman, that you've called us in here

to ask if either of us sees Lady Carter

in our private consulting rooms?

I do not.

Nor me.

Gentlemen, thank you very much.

Dear Lady Carter,

it is a lie

to say that any animal is tortured in any laboratory today.

You seem always to assume that vivisectors revel in cruelty

and are liars as well.

Rather, it is you anti-vivisectors

who are so monstrously cruel that you would condemn

thousands and thousands of your fellow men to suffering

and even to death...

and children also.

(STARTLED) Oh!

Are you a beggar...

Begging?

You know, are you begging?

Long morning ahead of us!

Shall we proceed?

(SOBS)

This way, ladies and gentlemen.

Don't open fire until you see the whites of their eyes.

MAN: Form a line here.

Morning, Sister Jarvis!

Good morning, Mr. Fenwick, Dr. Head.

The patients are ready for you.

Sorry we're late. Unscheduled meeting with the chairman.

-Dr. Head. -Thank you.

Good morning. How are my sclerotics?

Mrs. Palmer still thinks she can't feel her legs after hearing the morning bell.

Yesterday, Mrs. Janes started singing and...

Mrs. Palmer was immediately in distress. Mrs Janes is a good singer.

I should point out, though, I have asked her to restrain herself.

Can you ask the nurse to fetch my test equipment, please?

Sclerotics and neurotics. Who'd be Dr. Head?

-Mrs Bayle has been passing blood in her urine. -Much more like it!

(BELL RINGING)

Next bell, please.

(BELL RINGING)

It would assist me greatly, Mrs. Palmer, if you could give me an accurate

account of what you feel when you hear a bell, or singing,

and where and how you feel it?

In my legs, Doctor.

You lose feeling in your legs?

I think so, yes.

I...I'm not sure now.

Ooh! Sorry!

All right, Mrs. Palmer!

Tell me, Doctor, will I get better?

We'll do our very best, believe me.

Have you covered disseminated sclerosis?

I would cover it if I knew how to spell it, Doctor.

Thank you.

BELL RINGING

Threw herself under a horse tram.

-Threw herself? -That's right.

-Down by the docks. -Did you see it? -There were witnesses.

The sooner we get horses off London streets , the safer we'll all be.

You'll never get horses off the streets of London, take my word for it.

Examination room one, quickly.

Constable, why don't you sit down? And keep out of the way, please.

Sister, let's get her undressed. Cut her clothes off.

Thought I asked you to sit down.

I don't like your tone of voice.

Oh, perhaps you'd like me to have you thrown out of the hospital?

I have my duty.

Your duty would matter less in here than my duty.

Sister Russell, inform this fellow about hospital rules if you'd be so kind.

-What's the problem, Constable? -I have a suicide.

Here, in my receiving room?

Or do you mean in the mortuary which is downstairs?

Attempted suicide.

I think Dr. Culpin told you to sit down, or shall I send for an inspector?

What can we see?

The left leg.

Tibia's fractured. I want to see about her head and neck.

Who is she anyway?

There's a question.

Shabby, lice-ridden clothes, but her drawers are linen and lace.

See that the clothes are burnt, won't you? All of them.

The patient is going to surgery for a fracture shortly.

Meanwhile, Dr. Culpin will speak to you.

Constable, I'm afraid the young lady has a severe case of Locomotor Ataxia.

It was a horse-drawn Hackney carriage!

No, Constable, Locomotor Ataxia it's a medical term

and I'm afraid it's one of the worst cases I've seen.

A person suffering from this condition

is prone to sudden seizures of the functions of the limbs

and these interruptions, essentially in the nerve supply,

are often followed by a compensatory reflex.

Would you go more slowly?

Say that to the driver of the Hackney, because what actually happened to this young lady

was that she was involuntarily impelled

into his path by this compensatory reflex.

She attempted suicide.

It's a criminal offence.

No, she didn't.

I don't know what to say.

Well, your congratulations would be sufficient.

No doubt the horses were startled.

They were indeed.

A matter for genuine regret.

Constable, one thing our professions have in common,

we never make the mistake of taking appearance for reality.

You have a good day.

They'll be arresting me next.

And I reply to you, my ever-secret love,

because I would not have you see me in any false light.

When nerves are damaged, the loss of feeling offers clues

to the way the nervous system functions,

but only if the patient can accurately describe

what they do or do not feel.

I find most of my patients as frustratingly vague as Mrs. Palmer.

I long for a detached and articulate guide.

I've reached the only possible conclusion, my love,

and it's time to share it with you.

The sacrifice here...

must be my own.

Are we able to take a fresh ticket from the receiving room, Mr. Dean?

We can take anything that the receiving room

throws at us, Nurse Bennett. What is it, anyway?

-A traffic accident. -Ah! Well, that makes a change!

Are you very busy, Mr Dean?

As ever, Dr Head. It's a traffic accident now.

Ah... I'll come back.

-Where am I? -You've had an accident.

You've hurt yourself, but you will be all right very soon.

(GASPING)

Matron wants to know if Nellie Bowers is settling in.

I think so.

I'm sorry. I hate being a spy.

You're not a spy - you're Matron's Assistant.

Oh, there's another thing. There's a patient in surgery

then the plaster room and she'll be on the ward in about an hour.

-Name? -We don't have a name.

It was a street accident.

Bed three. Get it ready, please.

-You'll need a limb frame. -Oh, and a limb frame.

What's this patient's name, Sister?

We'll be told. Post-operative attendance.

-You know the procedures? -Yes, Sister.

What shall we call you, then, eh?

Never mind, we'll think of something, shan't we?

May I have a word, Sister?

What is it?

May I have permission to leave the ward?

-Have Probationer Fletcher watch my patient? -Whatever for?

I think I might know who our new patient is,

but I need a minute or two.

My poppa, he's a gentleman's barber. He's a big one for the

variety halls and he goes every chance he ever gets.

Miss Grace Barnes.

He sends me postcards regular...

regularly. I knew I knew her face!

It's her, and I knew it as soon as I saw her!

I couldn't be right certain, but I had that feeling.

Miss Barnes?

Grace?

I knew it were you!

There now, gently.

(GROANING)

My poppa saw you at the Bolton Variety two Whit Sundays ago.

Where am I?

You're at The London Hospital, dear.

Quite safe and sound. You've had an operation on your leg.

Sister Jarvis sent it down.

Apparently one of the probationers recognised the patient.

(DOOR OPENS)

Let's tidy you up, shall we?

There now. Don't let them bully you.

Miss Barnes, I am Matron Luckes.

Do you feel well enough to talk to us?

Mm.

Miss Barnes, my name is Sydney Holland.

I'm chairman of the Board of The London Hospital.

Miss Barnes, this is a charity hospital,

serving the poor of London.

I do not believe that you're of that class of unfortunate individual.

Please, I... I don't know how you found out my name.

Miss Barnes...

I beg you to keep it to yourselves.

I think this can wait.

Sister, your patient needs rest. Carry on.

You're interested in our young actress, I take it? Eh?

One of your hysterics.

Well, actually... I envy you sometimes.

Oh, I'm just the rude mechanical, but you

you get to explore all the darker recesses of the mind!

Or did you want something else entirely?

I slipped in to watch you earlier.

Yes! What was I doing to command such attention? Don't tell me now.

Repairing that foundry man who'd lost the use of his hand.

I'd seen it on your list.

You alarm me, Head.

If you've decided to branch out into surgery

what hope for my livelihood and the many like me?

Quite the opposite, my dear Dean.

WOMAN: Nurse!

It's a funny thing...

I know you like everybody knows you.

You know, you being a famous actress an' all.

But nobody here really knows anything about you.

They don't even know where you live.

They've been asking about you, you know?

Hey, now, there's plenty as is short of food in this world for us to go wasting it.

I know how you feel.

Do you?

You wanted to do away with yourself, didn't you?

Well, I happen to know that our Dr Culpin saw off the policeman,

so you're not going to get arrested.

Bet that's a weight off your mind, I'm sure!

No-one knows anything.

About you, you mean?

That's better.

Mr. Head, I wasn't expecting you to return. Mrs. Palmer seems comfortable.

Not Mrs Palmer. I haven't come for her.

I hear we've a possible case of hysteria - an actress.

She's Mr. Dean's surgical patient.

Ah. He won't mind.

Miss Barnes?

Yes.

My name is Head.

Head what? You're not a policeman?

Not a policeman. Dr. Head.

Doctor of heads?

Exactly so!

Doctor of heads. May I?

I happened to be chatting to your surgeon on another matter

when I heard the unusual circumstances of your admission.

This is a hospital for the poor

and I venture to suggest that you are not poor.

But I have a proposal. I'm offering to treat you,

not for the surgical matter, I'm not a surgeon,

but for the underlying issues.

-Why? -I have a confession to make, one that shames me.

I am a monster, Miss Barnes.

I should get most of my rewards, would you not think, from treating the poor?

Yet, it is my private patients...

who help me more.

Well, help in what way?

They can describe better what they're experiencing.

You've told me much already.

I've said nothing.

You disguised yourself.

Not to gain admission to this hospital.

You didn't expect to wake up in any hospital.

But you changed your appearance,

you came to a corner of the city where you are not known,

you made a bold, if I may say, dramatic statement

about yourself and your life.

You wished to die... unknown and unidentified.

Presumably because you wish to avoid having an affect on another person.

That person is therefore very dear to you.

All you have to do...

is acknowledge that I have made some intelligent start

in understanding your terrible dilemma.

And we will use that as a basis to examine your condition together...

in a relationship of absolute confidentiality and mutual trust.

It will be all right.

I assure you.

Ah, I wanted to give this back to Nellie Bowers.

-She should be in her room. -No, I just saw her going out.

You ask me what I think of my life as a doctor.

I tell you that my work is among the obscure

and sometimes the filthy and degenerate.

And you say to me, because you have these finer feelings

that I admire so much in you, that I am a great individual

because I alleviate their suffering.

But I reply to you, my ever-secret love,

because I would not have you see me in any false light.

My ever secret love.

And how did you find Miss Barnes?

Oh, fascinating, thank you.

Well, you heard about the fuss in the lecture room yesterday?

Holland's a bit stirred up.

I did and that's what's on my mind, that and some other issues.

My dear man, how can I be of service?

I want you to take on a new patient.

It will be simple, straightforward, over in perhaps 30 minutes.

Well, I'll be the judge of time, if I may. But go on, tell me, who is this patient?

Me.

(CLOMPS)

(TIPTOES)

If Miss Luckes found this on inspection.

-It's not mine! -It was in your box.

I didn't write it!

No, someone wrote it to you.

Is this from a doctor?

Yes.

Where were you this evening?

I had to go out.

What's the truth, Nellie?

We'll talk about this after tomorrow's shift.

You don't understand!

Morning, Harry.

Morning.

Cheers.

-Ta. -See ya!

(BELL RINGING)

MATRON LUCKES: Almighty and everlasting God,

help all those who are nurses

to have always present in their minds

the example of our blessed Saviour's love and sympathy

for the poor and suffering. Amen.

ALL: Amen.

And look up for me, please.

Tilt your head forward.

Thank you.

And back.

Good God!

-What is it? -Who is it, you mean.

Can I help you?

I haven't the slightest idea! Who are you?

I'm Sister Russell.

A nursing sister, you mean.

Not a sister in the sense I would use.

Can I help you?

Mrs Ramsbury.

Have we been introduced?

We were introduced at Henley.

My father's Dr Eustace Ingrams.

I swore I would not come here under any circumstances.

I could not have foreseen any circumstances

under which I would come here.

Someone has arrived at the receiving room.

Ernest, if I needed to be sent a message every time that happens...

Mrs Ramsbury, an ally of Lady Carter's.

Oh, splendid! The woman behind this torrent of correspondence.

I think you'd better come down.

Mrs Ramsbury...

This is Mr Holland, chairman of the hospital.

Mrs Ramsbury.

Mrs Ramsbury has been doing a search of the London hospitals.

I admit I have come to yours last of all...

for understandable reasons.

I'm looking for someone.

Grace!

Oh, my darling.

Oh, Grace!

Oh!

(SOBBING)

Oh, Grace!

Extraordinary woman!

She's a novelist, Chairman.

Is she any good?

Does it matter?

-You mean she's popular? -Very.

What have you done?

She has a fracture of the left leg.

Will it affect her dancing?

Tell both of us this instant it won't affect her dancing.

I will have you moved from here straightaway.

She can't be moved for several days.

Grace?

Have you nothing to say to me?

Mrs Ramsbury, I must ask you to leave

and return in the visiting period.

She doesn't want me to leave.

I didn't say she did.

I do.

How dare you!

I want whatever is best for my darling Grace...

who's a great star.

And if she needs rest, then I will not disturb her.

Mrs Ramsbury...

there are matters we are obliged to discuss.

Really? I can't think what!

Excuse me.

I wish I were dead.

Tell me why you wish you were dead.

Couldn't you see?

You live with Mrs Ramsbury?

You wish to stop living with Mrs Ramsbury?

Does that have to mean the same as wishing you stop living altogether?

You don't know her.

Then tell me.

She's very...

strong.

Makes you feel like a child?

Worse.

Her property?

A character in one of her novels.

Foolishly, I've lost the pages I was writing.

But I was distracted from my work on nerves by a new patient

a young woman suffering another form of pain.

She is in emotional crisis,

I suspect because she has losther sense of self

and become merely a player in someone else's fictional world.

I've started to reflect on how closely

our physical and psychological lives are intertwined.

How mental painaffects us physically,

no matter how hard we fight to stifle it.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

One of the nurses on Victor said that Miss Barnes was an "invert".

What's an "invert"? It's nowhere in the nursing manuals.

An invert is a woman who is more inclined...

I know. I don't know why I asked.

This note, Nellie, I won't call it a letter

-because it hasn't been signed... -I can explain.

It's not for me.

I go and see someone.

Go and see someone?

In Whitechapel.

Who do you go to see?

Thomas.

You want to see how he's living?

You want to come with me now and see how he lives?

(DOGS BARK)

(SHE KNOCKS ON DOOR)

(BABY CRIES)

There's four families in here.

Six if a boat comes in and the shelter's full.

I have to pay sixpence to get him a bed.

It's me.

I have a visitor.

Thomas Connor. How do you do?

Ada Russell. Pleased to meet you.

Nellie's told me ever so much about you.

You're Sister Russell, aren't you?

I brought you your snap.

(BANGING)

Thomas was in the Blackburn pits.

I started when I were ten. I were a gang leader.

-Then the Eight Hour Act came in. - She won't know about that.

Miners' hours, limited to eight hours underground per shift.

Management reacted by laying off men.

So you came to London to find work?

Had no choice, had I?

But he's found none. We thought he could find something at the docks,

but they don't want a northern lad.

-Nellie, if Miss Luckes knew about this... -Haven't done nothing wrong!

- Nobody would begrudge you the food... - Thomas has got no money.

- but she can hardly turn a blind eye. - There's nothing improper!

And she has to be told.

Nellie and I are man and wife.

You should have seen it.

It was terrible.

A tenement?

I have seen them.

There were 20 people to one room.

You must have known what things were like?

No! I never...

Here... Here.

Why were you there, anyway?

Nellie Bowers.

She's in trouble.

How's my patient?

I was on my way to see Grace.

I take it you've made arrangements to move her.

On the contrary.

She is not my legal ward.

I have no power over her.

I beg to disagree!

Our love for each other may not appeal to you, Mr Holland,

but it is genuine nonetheless.

If my dear Mr Ramsbury could come to terms with it, I'm sure you can.

Your affairs are none of my business. This hospital is and you have attacked it.

I want to ask you something.

Grace was given a general anaesthetic, was she not?

Yes.

A dangerous procedure?

We work constantly to improve the safety of anaesthesia.

Is this work facilitated by the use of animals?

Yes.

Do I have your word that animals are not gratuitously harmed in these experiments?

You do.

Your donation.

If you feel you can accept it from someone like me.

Thank you.

Unusually, for a medical man, I make no hard distinction

between the mental and the physical.

I believe we have much to understand about the relationship between the two.

And you think I could help your researches?

The principle is that I am here to help you, Miss Barnes.

I want you to take a leaf out of my book...literally.

My wife and I have a thing we call our Rag Book.

We write down our thoughts and experiences, when work separates us usually,

and that gives us a common basis for sharing our lives.

Would you like to write down some of your thoughts and experiences?

Stella's the writer.

As I thought.

She is the writer and you are the actor.

I think it's time you started to find your own voice.

Take your time.

When will you be back?

I have a little business to see to.

I shall take a day or so, then I shall be back.

Tell me what you propose.

An incision in the outer bicipital fossa,

extending along the axial line of the left upper extremity,

dividing the radial nerve at the point where it arises from the musculo-spiral...

the ends to be united with two fine silk sutures.

The external cutaneous nerve also to be divided where it perforates the fascia.

The nerve to be again sutured with fine silk

and the wound closed with silk sutures without drainage.

The limb put up on a splint with the forearm flexed at the elbow,

and the whole hand left free for testing.

You're quite certain about this, Head?

Quite certain.

I know it will alarm you, my love, but hope you will understand

that I have no choice but to experiment on myself.

The outcome is uncertain.

It may take years for feeling to return to my arm.

Indeed, it may never recover entirely.'

Sensation?

None whatever.

In becoming my own patient,

I am experiencing what many patients feel - fear.

Ready, then?

Ready.

Matron.

You've been supporting a husband.

I'm sorry!

You have availed yourself of a training in a profession reserved for single women.

What greater deception can there be?

I'm most truly sorry!

Your husband's profession...

I'm told he is a laid-off miner.

Correct.

Have you any idea of my background, Miss Bowers?

No, Miss. How could I possibly?

I'm from the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire.

I am well aware of the conditions in the mines at present.

Your husband may find employment at Newnham,

by the good offices of my own family, to whom I shall write a letter.

I shall also write a letter to the matron of the hospital at Lydney,

recommending that you be offered employment in a nursing capacity...

if this meets with your agreement.

Might they have some work for him?

I think they might.

There is one more thing.

These words were written by Dr. Head.

There will be no further mention of this unfortunate breach of his privacy.

Matron.

Today, I found those missing pages I was writing for the Rag Book.

I wonder sometimes

if we have unconscious impulses and mislay things on purpose.

But the things that matter most to us cannot be mislaid.

The truth is, a severed nerve may never fully reconnect.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Will you come see us off, then?

Yes. All right.

Dr Ingrams, I have a strangulated hernia in a woman of 50

who's been working as a washer woman

wearing a truss made of sacking and gutta-percha.

I have a 14-year-old girl impregnated by her father.

-Knife wounds? -Two. Seven o'clock.

Diphtheria?

Three, I think.

No, four. Four.

I was in an anxious, gloomy mood, and now the clouds have lifted.

Oh, I'm fine now...

Some things go away of their own accord,

provided we have someone to share our troubles with.

Love is the ultimate cure

and, in a sense, the only one.